


Motorbreath

by goldenbilly



Category: Stranger Things (TV 2016)
Genre: Enemies to Lovers, M/M, Recreational Drug Use, Slow Burn, Smoking, hormones idk they're angry boys
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-08-02
Updated: 2019-08-02
Packaged: 2020-07-29 05:22:49
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,508
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20076835
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/goldenbilly/pseuds/goldenbilly
Summary: Steve hates Billy, and he's also obsessed with him. Steve is extremely straight and strongly dislikes all of Billy's features, including and especially his pretty blue eyes and perfect smile.





	Motorbreath

Steve has been sitting in this basement for the last 45 minutes, and he was fucking bored. His hands are knotted into the mustard shag carpet on Carol's floor, grimacing in distaste whenever some lucky teen spun a bottle and used way too much tongue on the guy across from her. Tommy had previously been chain-smoking beside him, but left an empty spot once Carol winked in his direction, and the two pranced up the staircase. That was half an hour ago, and now Steve is shaking his leg, glancing around the room waiting for something, _anything_, even remotely exciting to happen.

So why was he still here? He’s sober enough, and his BMW is parked around back: he could easily leave whenever. Simply put, he was waiting for someone specific. Someone he had seen Carol laughing with earlier after school, making an agreement to pick up beers for her, ending with "See you tonight." He knew he would be here and he saw his chance. Steve wonders if this counts as stalking. He stops wondering when he realizes he doesn't care.

He doesn't exactly understand why he needs to see him so badly. He hates the guy with a passion and even the sight of his face makes his blood go hot. Maybe Steve is just sensitive about their fight back in November; how his lights had gotten knocked out by none other than the biggest douche on the basketball team. It's been half a year since the fight but sometimes when he replays the memory, he can still feel the sting of his lip bursting open like a ripe cherry.

It’s revenge, he tells himself. He has to show up to all of the parties and reassert his position as alpha. King Steve. Mr. Popular. If social status was all he has, he sure as hell won’t give it up to an asshole with a hairstyle that looked as if it had been stolen off a poodle.

There’s a sudden commotion as one of the boys from the football team, Kevin maybe? who had been hotboxing Carol’s closet, bursts out into the main room and chucks his dinner up onto Sandy Williams. This abruptly interrupts the entire mood of spin the bottle as the smell pervades the room, until someone grabs the empty beer bottle off the floor and moves the game to the living room upstairs, followed by a dull roar of “Kevin, man, grody to the max!” and “Serves you right, greener!" and Sandy’s shrieks coming from the bathroom as she washed her shirt.

Steve looks up as someone extends a hand out to him. Cassie Brown: he recognizes her from his math class. She sits in front of him and has annoyingly puffy brown hair, making it hard to see the board. She’s cuter from the front, small, and reminds him slightly of Nancy. He raises an eyebrow at the hand held towards him, wondering what she was getting at.

"You look lonely. Wanna go play the game with them?" Steve snorts, but takes her hand anyway. Once he’s on his feet he realizes their height difference and oh, wow, did he get taller? He looks down at the tiny girl's face and catches a slight pink tinge dusting her nose, blushing at how close he is to her. She crosses her arms over her chest as Steve runs a hand through his hair, Cassie following his every move with her eyes. Yep, still has that Harrington charm.

"Nah. I’ve gotta motor. Essay due tomorrow morning that I haven’t started. You know how it is.” She nods but she’s looking at her Keds, probably sensing rejection. Steve brushes the hair in her face behind her ear, and clicks his tongue “See you, Cassie.’ She flashes him a shy smile, and he momentarily feels good about himself.

Steve realizes as he walked out Carol’s back door that to become Mr. Popular, he’s likely gonna have to actually, you know, talk to someone other than Tommy for the entire night. But without his rival there, there’s no fuel on his fire. Why be the best if there’s no competition? No glory in winning a race with no other runners. He fishes his lighter out of his back pocket and flicks it up to the cigarette between his lips. Breathes in deep, wishing the smoke in his lungs might restore some of the fire he had. Wishing he could smoke that fucking dickbag in the jaw, for no reason other than sheer boredom. The essay he told Cassie about didn’t exist, but he would rather go to sleep a couple hours early than bore himself to death at a party full of people he had nothing in common with.

“What’s a pretty boy like you doing out here all alone, Harrington?”

That fucking voice. Steve’s head snaps up and he doesn’t understand how an entire Camaro managed to sneak up on him. He puts his hand on his hip and watches as Billy fucking Hargrove slams his driver side door and takes a few paces towards him, 6-pack in hand.

“Interesting how you keep bringing up pretty boys, Hargrove. Something you’re trying to tell me?” Billy’s got on some tight fucking jeans that are rolled up above the ankle, on his feet a pair of black high top converse. He’s got a black sleeveless tee from some metal band, and his hair's all done up perfectly like he's running in a pageant for Miss Indiana. It makes Steve want to strangle him with his stupid pendant necklace.

Billy chuckles and steps closer to him; pulls out his own cigarette. He blows the smoke out towards Steve and he’s close enough that the grey wisps almost reach him, but they just dissipate and fade into the sharp April air. Steve’s getting more riled up by the second, just from the jerk’s presence. Billy's eyes are bright and wild with blue flame, amused. Taunting him. He feels like a rubber band being pulled by two fingers, as if Billy could make him snap in an instant. He straightens his back, suddenly insecure that slouching will make him even a millimeter shorter than the man before him. They’re at the same height now, eye to eye, and from this distance Steve notices a small bloody cut on Billy’s left eyebrow, barely visible in the faint yellow light coming from Carol’s window. He frowns slightly before he catches himself, remembering that he doesn’t care about good-for-nothing Billy Hargrove.

Billy blows more smoke, clouds hitting him in the face this time. “You leaving the party so soon, Stevie?”

Steve drops his cigarette and grinds it into the dirt with his toe. He’s got a choice to make, either go home and continue being bored, probably have his parents grill him about his plans after graduation, _or_ get what he’s been waiting for since November. There’s a few seconds of silence where he tries to make up his mind. When he realizes he’s got no idea how to actually enact his revenge plot on Billy, he falters. He should’ve made a fucking plan. What would he do, fight him, right here in Carol’s backyard? Billy’s even stronger than he was last year, and we all know how well last year turned out for Steve. He cringes when he thinks about the two black eyes that he wore for the week after that. Unfortunately, Steve hasn’t become smarter since last year. He makes a decision. “No, just came out for a smoke.”

Billy furrows his brows in a way that makes him look confused; Steve’s never been a good liar. At all. “I thought Carol’s parents smoked in the house?”

Steve stares blankly for a second, then looks anywhere but Billy. “They do. I just also had to… grab something from my car.” Billy’s eyes flick from Steve to the BMW, then back again. Steve swallows hard, and he has no idea why.

“‘Right then. See you inside, King Steve." They make eye contact for a nanosecond and Steve catches a glint of white teeth behind the grin on Billy's lips. He pushes past Steve with a broad shoulder, throwing him slightly off balance. Steve only weakly scoffs in response.

The brunette waits until he hears the sound of the back door opening and closing behind him, then decides how long to wait before following the blonde. Starts wondering if popularity is really worth the hassle. He's killed _alien monsters_, for God's sake, shouldn't he be worrying about something else? Anything other than how to reclaim an imaginary throne from some douche who spends more time on his hair than he spends at the actual party. Steve hears whooping from inside the house, and forgets all previous rational thoughts. Remembers the California dream boy he came to see. He concludes that 5 seconds was plenty of time for him to wait, and heads back in, popping the collar on his denim jacket for good measure.

Out of the frying pan; into the fire.

**Author's Note:**

> steve has one brain cell and i love him for it  
hey i'm not really a writer so any criticism of my writing is encouraged so i can improve. i'd also love to hear where you'd like the story to go! anyways my tumblr is 6koi and i cry about billy every day


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